((This journal is written in a form of code derived from a mixture of Elven and Dwarven script. The journal itself is hidden in Zeela's safe at the back of her house.))
So, after many years of declining my mother's quite frankly borderline obsessive insistence.. I have given in and agreed to start a journal of my life. Who knows, one-day this text might form the start of a tome about me.. or more likely it'll end up stolen and end up being used against me. So, I add the following statement:
In the event this book is used in a court of law or any legal situation against Zeela Soulstar, this book is complete falsehoods. And claims of broken laws or otherwise frowned upon acts are incorrect and greatly exaggerated for therapeutic reasons.
And now that is out the way.. time for a summary of my life so far.
My name is Zeela Soulstar, I am the daughter of the undead Xela Soulstar and necromancer Hazel, born with the aid of some unknown magic.
I was born a year after the first Lismore war, and at the time of writing, it is my fifth or sixth birthday.. I loose track. Through the aid of potions, I stand with an adult body and mind.
In the time I have been active around Lismore, I have achieved much I am proud of; I have built up The Cat's Eye, a market stall of some renown, Looted a sunken pirate ship with the aid of its former captain, discovered the Manasprings and ruins that became Cruentus' Headquarters. As it stands now I have a sizeable wealth, I run The Cat's Eye and am in line to taking ownership of The Rabbit Hole. Despite all this, I find myself feeling growing increasingly distressed with how things are going.
Looking back at my life, it can be measured mostly in gold, renown and contacts.. yet I feel isolated. My every action must be made with my reputation in mind.. meaning I have increasing difficulty making friends with others who I worry may judge me. While I have several friends, there are only a handful I feel I can properly speak to; my mate Miralda, my brother Leo and the demon Edhel.
..Seriously, did I write that? Sure, I feel better to write that.. but I'm effectively talking to myself here. Uugh, whatever.. I'll give this journal thing another try later.
Oh! and if you are reading this Miralda, nose out! ...please?
